The Rod and the Ocean


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Lady, I will touch with my mind’s eyes
And with my soul’s voice whisper
You naked with the inner touch
My empathy will consume you
Like the bright obscene passion of my
Full poemed need for you
And we will be myths living
You are the one water
And I will be the one rod of sunlight
To enter you and twist like serpents
And in time’s lonely embrace
I will remeber our union
To bring you to the darkest moment of pleasure
And you will blush like a burning bush
In the flower of our heat, a world
Will be born, not unlike Mars or Pluto
We will terraform worlds
Like our sexual bliss moved our clay
And we will repeat the ritual
Like youthful months of our marriage.

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Force for Union


20

With the pulse of night
I will enact in us, the first movement –
We will slip and flood and
Perhaps embrace, an act of union

To-night, a bit like all nights
With the necessity of being passionate
Culminating in our inexorable care
I am still imperially strong & male

With a colony of youth still bursting within
And senses to witness your body
Even if I have grown older, my brain
Carries with it a legacy of evolution

An act that sprouts so unilaterally free
The rendering of procreation
In a process of beating at your borders
Fluid across your waters, with treaties of peace
Ready to build colonies through caresses of skin.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/milos-island-a-different-world-404266901

Sounding the Wet Walls of Propaganda


89

First tell me your secret wish
How your lashes burn on my skin
Your little hands tab my dynamic points
Like circular chiropractic motions

I ask you where you want to go
You tell me with a naked sigh
You want the journey of the flesh
The progress of lust to the twenty-first century

First tell me your secret spot
Where orgasm plays a propaganda
Of feminine charm so covert
You make me smile through my teeth

As I advance upon your instance
And you open up like a cherry religion
Of softness, melted heat and little extravagance
You beg me now, we’ve been here before.

Photo: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Angela-370044226

In The Center of the World of the Body Tasted


63

You fall from your body, in spring –
.
.
Like a shadow of unmoving patience
With virtues to name, your furthest points
the overflowing or natural erosion
The breaking point where flesh enters
Another state – stirring instincts of a million years
.
.
Your body aches, for a firebrand tongue of coolness
The firmament of male and female, ecstasy
The earth tremor of your buttock of green
A testimony of your solar jaguar eyelashes
.
.
Stroked not enough by time
Your orange cleft of midnight lunging
Transfigured by his spiral hands, encircling
Your caressed scents of lengthy slow longing
.
.
You fall from your body, it’s dusk
.
.
Fluttering like an unfinished melody
Between April & May, waiting and lasting
As a feast of unfolding horizons rushing
Towards music, festivity, orgasms of the house of wind
.
.
It’s not over, it’s just the black lips of the O r a c l e ‘ s beginning
Your juices are not overflowing, they are just incarnated in dream
Dissolving your senses like the buds of the lucid mouths of truth.

The You of a Secret Kiss, Like Stolen Bread


45

Someone said they had a word
For music of feeling, for longing
Sparse as the stripped light of youth

You are my bamboo grove
On a late afternoon, where I feel nothing
You are as a mouth struck opal

A divine surrender to infinity
Someone said they had a word
For longing, pure and simple

From the gulfs of crazy waves in rain
There is such stillness and movement
In my being, when I think of you

I believe your moist hands are
Like some indefinable South, some symbolic
Fragrance I cannot quite remember

Tangerine moisture and liquorish lush flavor
Some sensual spirituality for which
Invades my obscurity, like life to the artist

Like femininity to the protesting solitude
Of a monk, scholar, orator of surrealism
Someone said they had a word

For the breathless state of strange desire
Before sweetness, before thorns, before union.